


It Will Come Back

by FelicityGS



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 00Loki, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Bleeding, Guns, Q-Tony, There's A Tag For That, Violence, Wounds, barely restrained loki, i love these two fucks, inappropriate language, just flirting, no sexy times, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:32:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2448740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelicityGS/pseuds/FelicityGS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's 17, going on 18--but he doesn't think he'll make it that far. He's too clever for his own good, should never have hacked Loki's feed, and <em>definitely</em> shouldn't have started to feed the agent good intel behind the scenes. </p>
<p>(But no one's half as <em>interesting</em> as Loki. Tony would rather take the short life span over boring any day.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Will Come Back

**Author's Note:**

> All my best AU's come from [Verbyna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbyna), and this one isn't really any different. I wasn't feeling well and asked them to tell me a story. 
> 
> They sent me the rough outline that I eventually turned into this.
> 
> Bond-infused Frostiron. Not particularly healthy, and I'm gonna slink off before I type more of this little verse. I've got a giant fic to finish writing already.

> _Don't let it in with no intention to keep it_   
> _Jesus Christ, don't be kind to it_   
> _Honey, don't feed it, it will come back_
> 
> _-Hozier, "It Will Come Back"_

 

Tony comes home and makes it to the kitchen before he finds the blood. It's all over the sink, a streak across the top of the counter.

(Tony is seventeen and good at his job and ninety-nine percent certain with how the last few months of work have gone that he's not going to make it to eighteen in a month because Tony is always,  _always_  too clever for his own good.)

"Why do you not have a first aid kit?" a low voice asks. 

Tony considers, decides he doesn't have much to lose, and turns around. There's a gun on the table, but since it's not in Loki's hand, he doesn't let himself flinch. Loki's got one of the kitchen towels pressed to his ribs; it's an altogether too fascinating shade of red. There's blood sliding down Loki's face, a steady trickle from a scrape on his forehead over his brow bone. 

For all that, his gaze is piercing, his face flat and still. Curious and distant.

(This is why Tony's fucked.)

"I don't usually have people bleeding in my kitchen? God, can I even cook in here again? Is that sanitary? Do you have any blood born diseases I need to know about?" Tony holds up a finger before Loki's mouth can open. "Hold that thought. I'm going to the store. Please don't pass out."

Loki shrugs.

"Is there a bullet in there?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I'm not trained to take bullets out."

Loki rolls his eyes. 

"I need a needle and thread, not  _you_."

"Ouch." Tony's already heading for the door, though. "Do you need anything else?" 

***

"Do you want me to...?"

"Shut up," Loki says, clipped and precise. "Tilt the mirror five degrees left. Ah, there we go." His brows furrow again; Tony focuses very firmly on the ripple of Loki's stomach muscles and not where the flesh is being stitched closed. 

"How do you do that?" Tony asks. He's always wondered--he's seen Loki stitched up more times than he can count anymore, usually just before being handed a new suit and sent right back out the door. There has to be a trick to it.

"You talk too much."

"I think I'm allowed to talk. I mean, you're here, in my apartment, which means probably not good things." Loki glances up at him; Tony makes himself look back. "Right? I mean, you haven't killed me yet, so you aren't the dog getting that briefing. But someone's getting it today, right? I'm not stupid."

Loki barks a laugh, dropping the needle to grab the scissors and snip the thread. He makes an all too neat and practiced knot.

"You're stupid enough to feed me good intel," Loki points out. He's way too good natured for someone aware of all the suicide missions he's been sent on. 

"You're too good for them," Tony says automatically. 

(This is also why he's fucked: Tony designs weapons. Tony digs up intel. Tony is very good at his job, a genius, and Tony's never seen anyone put them both to such elegant use as Loki.)

Loki goes quiet, studying Tony for a few long moments. Tony swallows. Loki's intense,  _intent_ , and it's moments like this--where Loki isn't mid-mission, isn't  _pretending_ , that he becomes hyperaware that Loki's an intelligent killer who got picked up to be an assassin for the Crown. That the only reason Loki's still breathing in front of him is he's a predator that's killed his way out of every bad mission he's been sent on the past six months.

"Funny," Loki finally says, looking away and wiping the last streak off blood from his ribs. "Frigga said the same thing when she recruited me."

***

"So are you going to, like, set up traps?  _Home Alone_  it?" Tony asks around a mouthful of pizza. 

Loki looks like Tony just suggested he shit on the floor. To be fair, if Tony were by himself right now,  _he'd_  set up traps. Then again, he's an engineer. Tech. Traps and weapons are what he _does_. It sounds reasonable to him.

"This is why you aren't in the field," Loki says instead. He eyes the pizza.

"I got some Chinese delivered too. If you want that. You usually get the chicken lo mein after missions." Tony points to the box on the table, pauses. "Not that I stalk you."

Loki doesn't react, just grabs the pointed to box and chopsticks.

"I wonder, do you jerk off when I fuck a mark?" Loki asks when Tony's got another mouthful of pizza. He grins wickedly as Tony chokes on his food. "Precious boy, allow me to worry about the hounds set on your trail and you take care of our vanishing, hmm?" 

(Tony has not, in fact, ever gone so low as to jerk off while watching Loki fuck a mark. But he's thought about it later, because he's only human and everything about Loki seems designed to draw him in.)

"Right," Tony gasps. "I can do that."

***

Loki  _does_  set traps. Tony notes this while he's busy creating covers, routing funds, and otherwise doing the things that he's best at--all in the safety of what Loki says is a blind spot from the windows. 

(Mostly he's creating false trails, because he's not an idiot--everything he's doing is being monitored, there's no way it's not. He just has to make so much data they can't possibly follow it all, enough of it plausible that they'll ignore the improbable. Tony's _good_ at what he does. So's Loki. That's probably the  _problem_.)

They're all very simple traps, string and shoe lace and boring as hell. Loki doesn't even lock the window Tony always leaves unlocked for when he forgets his key. Tony's a little disappointed, underneath the rest that's focused on the problem at hand. He kind of forgets after that; Loki isn't talking, isn't really moving, and Tony's busy.

Then Loki moves. 

Tony isn't even sure what's happened at first, then a silenced gun goes sliding across the floor near him and he's scrambling back, bringing his laptop with him. Loki's  _fast_ , precise, on the other agent before they can recover getting tangled in the simple ( _of course, how elegant, keep them from noticing_ ) trap; there's a crunch as his elbow breaks their nose, then on the drawback he's got their head and there's an ugly snap.

The body slumps to the floor. Tony stares.

_006\. Hogun._

Loki crouches, hunger and fury and wildfire on his face. Tony's never seen Loki's face just after a kill, the camera is never pointed that way. Loki looks like a force of nature; Tony's so terrified he's not sure how he's still breathing. Then there's a layer of ice just over the surface, turning Loki inhuman as he tilts Hogun's head, checks his pulse. Thorough.

"Are you done?" Loki asks. 

Tony swallows.

"Five minutes?" He doesn't mean it to come out a question, but he's still trying to get his heart to stop jack hammering.

(This is also why he's fucked: he's  _still_  attracted to Loki, more than he was.)

"You have three," Loki says.

***

The thing is, Tony realizes,  _the_   _thing is_  no one knew Loki was at his apartment. No one knows Tony was tipped off that he was going to be terminated tonight.

(They all watched Loki put a bullet in the head of innocent man; Tony wasn't supposed to, wasn't supposed to see the moment Loki's gear went silent, just like Loki wasn't supposed to know he'd been set up.)

"Can you walk slower? Maybe? Not all of us are giants," Tony says, trying to keep stride with Loki. The look Loki gives him could ice over the damn ocean, but his stride shortens. Barely. 

(Not a single damn person in that agency other than Tony ever thought Loki was anything but an old dog that needed to be put down. No one else gave Loki anything but a mission. Tony tries not to think about how it's the only reason he's still alive.)

"Barnes is good for the switch?" Loki asks. Precise. He's still distant, still working on getting them both out alive--

still itching for another kill, Tony's brain supplies helpfully. 

"Yeah. They'd expect Rhodes or Danvers. No one even knows about Barnes and me being connected."

"For your sake, I hope that's true."

"Me too," Tony mutters, hefting his bag closer. 

***

"What are you going to do?" Tony asks just when they're on the plane to disappear off to a new life firmly out of reach of the Crown's pet hounds. 

"Clean house, of course." Loki grins, all predator, forest fire flicker in his eye.

(Reasons Tony is fucked--he can't just  _leave_  Loki well enough alone. No one else is as  _interesting_.)

"Do you need help?"


End file.
